


the season of scars and of wounds in the heart

by pocky_slash



Series: grace coming out of the void [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Lack of Communication, M/M, Scheming, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 22:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17374703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: At the Amnesty Lodge Holiday Party, Barclay makes the mistake of telling Aubrey all about the guy who broke his heart thirty years ago, and now Aubrey's on a mission: reunite Barclay and his lost love.(It has nothing to do with any feelings she may or may not have for Dani. Nothing at all.)(aka That's A Christmas To Me: Kepler Edition)





	the season of scars and of wounds in the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Dang, friends. I haven't written anything more than a few sentences since August and then I wrote this whole thing over like, five days, so.......that's where we are.
> 
> This idea randomly seized me while I was driving back to Jersey for Christmas, playing Amnesty for a friend who was catching up. It wouldn't let me go and I wrote a couple sentences and then sat down and pounded out the rest over a week. I don't know if there's an audience for this at all, and it was jossed about five hours ago, but I kind of like it and I'm releasing it out into the world.
> 
> (I feel like I dunk on Indrid a lot in this fic, but please know that he's my disaster child and I mock because I love him so dang much.)
> 
> Invaluable cheerleading provided by **such_heights** and **coffeesuperhero**. Title from the Vienna Teng song "Atheist Christmas Carol."

The party is less awkward than Aubrey feared it would be. 

She loves Amnesty Lodge. She loves the people who live and work here, she loves the Pine Guard, she loves working with Ned and Duck. She feels a joy and a purpose at Amnesty that she's never felt before, and while she doesn't necessarily believe in _fate_ , she does feel like this is where she's meant to be.

That doesn't mean that things haven't been a little tense since they sort of adopted a not-quite-Abomination in the middle of a hunt. Mama's ire is mostly directed at Duck, sure, but Aubrey was just as insistent that Billy be made a member of their team, is just as protective of Billy now that their confrontation with the weirdo tree spirit thing is behind them. 

Things seems to have settled, though, and when Barclay tentatively broached the subject of the annual Amnesty Lodge Holiday Party's guest list, Mama rattled off Duck's name like it was nothing.

It's not a wild party; it's mostly been eating, talking, and exchanging presents. Barclay's food is perfect, as always, and there's promise of his special hot chocolate to come. Mama's in maybe the best mood that she's been in since she reappeared, which Aubrey at least partly attributes to Thacker being calm enough to be peacefully confined to a room instead of locked in the panic room in the cellar. Agent Stern is visiting a friend for the holiday, and Dani has been sitting close to Aubrey's side all night.

It's a pretty good party, yeah.

"Oh, Dani, this one's for you!" Barclay says, grabbing a neatly wrapped box from its perch on a bookshelf. "I saw it and thought of you."

"Well, give it here, then," Dani says, and takes it as soon as he holds it out. She tears away the paper to reveal a plain brown box. Inside is a mug that says _Useless Lesbian_. Dani laughs, delighted, but also slowly flushes from her neck up to her temples.

"Thanks a lot, Barclay," she says, throwing a wad of crumpled up wrapping paper at him. "Did you get one for yourself that says 'Disaster Gay'?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Barclay says. He grabs the wrapping paper and adds it to the bag he's been using to systematically snatch everyone's trash practically before it hits the floor.

"How long has it been since you've been on a date again?" Dani asks.

"Oh gosh, let me see, it's been--oh, that's right, it's been _none of your business_."

Dani snorts and Aubrey offers, "It's fine, I'm a useless bisexual, so I get it."

"We've noticed," Moira mutters, and Ned laughs. Dammit, she never should have told Ned that she likes Dani. Even if he replied with, _Oh, is that a secret?_

"Anyway," Dani says loudly, before anyone else can add in their two cents, "this one's for you." She passes Aubrey an expertly wrapped box with an elaborate bow on top. It looks like it belongs in a Hallmark Christmas movie--Aubrey didn't think people wrapped gifts like this in real life. She's careful as she opens the paper, peeling the tape back slowly and slipping the ribbon off without tearing it. Inside are two smaller packages. She shows the same care unwrapping them, even as Ned sighs theatrically and Jake says, "C'mon, it's just paper!"

The first is a rectangular box about the size of her hand. Inside is a glasses case. She pops it open to reveal new sunglasses, oversized and black with cat's eye frames and subtle flame detailing around the edge.

"I figured, if you're gonna wear sunglasses all the time now, these are more your style than those big drug store looking ones," Dani says. "Not that they don't look good! They do! But, you know, I thought you might like these. I didn't know if you wore glasses or anything--I mean, I've never seen you with glasses, but maybe you wore contacts, so maybe you would need prescription sunglasses? But you could probably just wear contacts with the sunglasses if you do. Wear contacts. Um. Anyway."

Dani is _stupid cute_ when she babbles like that and Aubrey has to blink herself back to awareness to quit staring.

"No, they're great!" she says. She quickly swaps out her current sunglasses--purchased, as Dani guessed, at the drug store in a panic after her return from Sylvain--and puts on the new ones. "I love them."

Dani grins her dimply grin and from over her shoulder, Barclay raises an eyebrow at Aubrey. She ignores him and opens the other gift, flat and rectangular.

"That one is stupid," Dani says. "Just something I was working on and I thought that maybe you'd like to keep it. I don't know why I wrapped it up, I could have just given it to you."

Inside the second package is a cheap plastic frame containing a charcoal sketch of Dr. Harris Bonkers. It's all in soft strokes of grey charcoal, save for his eyes, which are bright red. 

It's beautiful and perfect and Dani is wringing her hands with nerves and Aubrey wants to kiss her. Which, granted, she wants to do a lot, but still.

"Oh my god," she says quietly. She brushes her fingers over the drawing. It's incredibly lifelike. "This is...this is amazing, Dani. This is _perfect_."

"Oh," Dani says, like she honestly thought Aubrey wouldn't love this. "Um. Good."

"This makes my gift look really dumb," Aubrey admits, while calculating if there's enough time to slip out of the party and go find something way better than the gift she's already wrapped. Even if she borrows Mama's truck, she doubts most places in town will still be open, unless she wants to give Dani a dehumidifier.

"I'm sure it's not dumb," Dani says.

"I mean, it's not...thoughtful," Aubrey says, and digs the hastily wrapped gift out of her tote bag. It's wrapped in a _Lamplighter_ , because it felt wasteful to buy a roll of wrapping paper just to wrap like, five things, but now she's regretting not making it...prettier.

Dani takes the package regardless of its aesthetic value and tears it open--and Barclay definitely grabs the paper with its article on local bigfoot sightings and trashes it even more quickly than usual--and beams at Aubrey.

"It's not like...personal," Aubrey admits, nervously scrubbing her fingertips against the shaved side of her scalp.

"Are you kidding?" Dani asks. "I mentioned that I wanted these brush pens like, once, in casual conversation. I can't believe you remembered!"

"Oh, you know, I just saw them and it popped into my head," Aubrey lies, like she didn't immediately type the specific brand into her phone and then order them off Amazon the next day.

"It's not a dumb gift, I've been lusting after these for so long! It's an amazing gift," Dani insists, and hugs the box of markers to her chest. A smile creeps onto Aubrey's face.

"Awwww," Moira says, only half as sarcastic as she could be, and Aubrey and Dani break eye contact and stare at opposite sides of the room.

"Alright, then, my turn!" Ned says. "I have, of course, procured the finest gifts for you, my friends and teammates, at great expense to myself...."

They finish exchanging gifts before long and Aubrey gets pulled into a conversation with Duck and Jake about her meagre skiing attempts, while Moira starts playing some carols on the piano. When Duck and Jake go off on a tangent about opportunities for extreme sports in national forest, Aubrey's eyes automatically drift towards Dani, just in time to see her heading back towards the hot spring. Aubrey waits exactly five seconds before slipping out of the conversation to follow her. 

Dani is standing near the windows that look out over the springs, watering her tiny herb garden on the window sill and humming along with the music from the lobby. When one of the floorboards squeaks under Aubrey's boots, Dani turns. Her smile definitely goes from friendly to pleased when she sees that it's Aubrey lurking in the hall.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," Aubrey says back.

"I just wanted to take a breather," Dani says.

"Yeah, I feel that," Aubrey says. "It's nice to have everyone all together and getting along, but I feel like we didn't really great a break. Right from disaster and goatmen and into like, tinsel and carols and stuff."

"It's weird," Dani says. "I mean, this isn't really any of our holiday, but we have this party every year and we've sort of fallen into embracing it, I guess."

"It's not really mine either," Aubrey says. "I mean, we did Christmas when I was growing up, but I started doing my own thing based more around like, the solstice? Which was last week."

"Aw, I wish I knew," Dani says. "I would have done something with you."

"We had slightly more pressing things going on," Aubrey says. "Disasters and all."

"Still," Dani says. She leans over and knocks their shoulders together. Her braid brushes Aubrey's arm when she moves.

"I appreciate the thought anyway," Aubrey says. "Maybe I'll do something for the new year."

"I'd be happy to help," Dani says.

They're standing close and it feels warm and private and Aubrey considers, for just a moment, saying something about the feelings that have been whirling around inside of her for months. She shouldn't--these last few weeks have proven that it's a terrible idea for anyone to get close to her--but, wow, does she want to.

"Hey, Dani, what did you do with those candles?" Mama calls out from the lobby and the moment is broken. 

Dani rolls her eyes and smiles wryly. "I'll be right there!" she calls back. To Aubrey she adds, "Duty calls, I guess."

Aubrey watches her go back towards the lobby and sighs, her shoulders slumping.

"You know--"

Barclay can't even finish his sentence before Aubrey whirls around, a flame balanced on the tips of her fingers. He steps back, hands raised in cautious retreat, and Aubrey sighs and slumps her shoulders, the flames dissipating. 

"I didn't know anyone else was out here!" she says, and then clears her throat to rid herself of the last of the shrill adrenaline. "Sorry," she adds, forcing her tone back to a normal decibel.

"That's okay," Barclay says. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to say, you know, if you asked Dani out on a date, she would definitely say yes."

Aubrey flushes immediately, before she can even think of a denial or possibly an outright lie to change the subject. _I definitely don't like-like Dani!_ or _We're probably better as friends_ or _Oh no the lodge is on fire!_ She opens her mouth and then closes it without saying anything at all.

"I don't mean to pry," Barclay says. "It's really none of my business. I just." Barclay closes his mouth. His eyes go soft and a little distant. "I just look at you and I remember being an awkward mess playing the 'does-he- _like_ -like-me' game with this guy about a million years ago. And I regret wasting so much time being afraid to be with him when we could have been happy and in love."

"Oh, Barclay, I'm sorry," Aubrey says almost automatically. Barclay sticks his hands in his pockets and shrugs. 

"Nothing lasts forever," he says. "I appreciate the time we had together. I didn't really expect to fall in love at all, let alone once I'd left Sylvain and ended up here." He seems almost casual about it, but Aubrey can see the way the muscles around his eyes tighten and his smile turns sad.

"What was he like?" she asks. She can't think of anything else to say.

"He was a Sylph," Barclay says. "He's been on Earth for a long time--longer than me. When we met...well, I was still new to the planet. And pissed off. And fucking up left and right." He winces and rubs the back of his neck. "But we met in Chicago when we were both running from some pretty disastrous mistakes--mine out west and his here in West Virginia. He loved Earth and he had been here a while and he gave me a lot of advice to navigate the world. I was angry and bitter and scared and he helped smooth all of that out, to see this whole thing as an adventure and not a punishment." He pauses, smiling wryly. "I thought I maybe idolized him a little, then realized with abject horror that I was falling in love with him."

Aubrey can't hold back her giggle. "Awwww."

Barclay laughs too. "Yeah," he says. "I spiraled into a full on 'what if he doesn't like me' panic for weeks until finally he said, 'I was going to let you come to this in your own time, but I'm very impatient' and kissed me."

Aubrey doesn't _mean_ to clasp her hands to her chest and coo, but it's another automatic response. Barclay blushes.

"It was...really wonderful. For years, it felt like I actually had a handle on my life, like I wasn't spiraling out into disaster. We traveled together and shared secrets and went on adventures. It almost made being kept from my homeland worth it, in a way. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together."

Barclay pulls his hands out of his pockets and crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall. Right, this isn't a happy story--that much was clear from the start, but seeing Barclay so nostalgic and enamoured caught her off guard.

"What happened?" she asks softly.

"The same things that happen to all sorts of people who aren't meant to be together." He shrugs. "We were very different, when it came down to it. Like, in an Oscar-and-Felix sort of way and in a...deeper way. If it was just that he was a slob and I wasn't, we probably could have worked around it, but we had very different outlooks. He was a magic user and he relied on his abilities to run his life and make his decisions for him. He used them to worm out of conversations and arguments. He'd get smug and obnoxious about it as a defense mechanism, and even though I knew he was only doing it because he was scared, after living with it day in and day out, I couldn't deal with it anymore. I told him I wanted to settle down and that I was eyeing the gateway in Kepler. He spent a lot of time out here so I was sort of hoping he'd follow me. He never did."

"Hold on...." Aubrey goes over the whole story again in her head. "He's still out there? I thought--well, I kind of assumed he had...like...died."

Barclay snorts. "No...no, as far as I know he's still out there. Part of me still hopes that maybe one day he'll show up, but it's been decades. I think I'll always be a little in love with him, but I doubt he thinks of me at all anymore." His smile goes small and sad. "It's not a big deal--everyone gets their heart broken sooner or later. I've dated some other guys since then and it's been...fine...but it's hard to date humans, having this huge secret, and there haven't been all that many compatible Sylphs who've stuck around since I've been here."

"It's just...sad," Aubrey says. Barclay has quickly become one of her favorite people. She knows he's basically the reason Amnesty Lodge keeps running as both a public facing inn and a functional home for Sylvan refugees. Mama may be their leader, but it's become clear over the past few months that she's more focused on fighting the abominations than making sure the bills get paid and supply orders are put through. Barclay cooks for all of them and cleans up after them. He's always around to listen to people who need to vent. He's part of the Pine Guard and he watched out for her those first few months at Amnesty Lodge, when Mama was gone. He's funny, sometimes even on purpose, and Aubrey enjoys his company. He made her feel welcome, maybe for the first time in her life. She realizes, with slow dawning affection, that she wants him to be happy.

"It is what it is," Barclay says. He shrugs again and she has the urge to hug him. Before she can act on it, Dani reappears in the hallway.

"Hey, Barclay, Mama wanted help making the hot chocolate?" she says.

Barclay's eyes widen almost comically. "Thanks, Dani, I gotta go, Mama is _not_ allowed in my kitchen and _she knows that_."

He's gone before Aubrey can say anything further, and she finds herself staring after him, frowning. He may talk a good game, but he misses his ex, Aubrey is sure of it. She can see it on his face, in the slope of his shoulders, in his wistful smile.

"Aubrey?" Dani asks. "Is everything okay? You look like you kinda went away there for a second.

It's Christmas. Or, it's the window of Christmas, at least. It may not be a holiday either of them really celebrate, but Aubrey can appreciate the magic of the season.

"Everything's fine," she says. She turns to Dani, her determination straightening her spine. "It's more than fine, because we're going to reunite Barclay with his lost love."

Dani stares at her for a beat, then two.

"I'm going to go get some schnapps for that hot chocolate," she says. "It sounds like we might need it."

* * *

"So, just to make sure that I've got all of this, I'm gonna repeat it back to you."

It's late, now. The party cleared out a few hours ago, after watching a couple old Christmas movies in the lounge. Everyone slowly peeled off for their own rooms and Ned and Duck went home. Aubrey and Dani are sitting across from each other on Aubrey's bed, with Dr. Harris Bonkers asleep between them. Aubrey has a notebook out and she's written, _The Plan_ across the top. There's nothing else on the page yet.

"Barclay used to have a boyfriend that he really loved. They broke up for vague reasons, but the guy is still alive and used to hang out around this area, so we're going to try and find him and reunite them?"

Dani sounds skeptical, still, but Aubrey knows it's only because she didn't see Barclay's face when he was telling the story.

"Exactly," Aubrey says. "Because it's Christmas."

"You don't celebrate Christmas. Barclay doesn't really celebrate Christmas either, honestly."

"Well, then, Hanukkah," Aubrey concedes. "I know he was the one lighting that menorah.

"I'm pretty sure that was for the general benefit of the lodge and not out of religious obligation," Dani says. "We don't have Hanukkah in Sylvain either. Also, it was like, a month ago."

"Dani," Aubrey says gravely. "After everything Barclay does for us--running the lodge, cooking for us, cleaning up after us, listening to us when we have problems--don't you think he deserves something nice in return?"

"He likes when we're proactive about dusting," Dani says. Aubrey glares at her.

"Dani. You didn't see his face. He really loves this guy."

Dani studies Aubrey for a moment, chewing her bottom lip.

"Okay," she finally says. "All we can do is try, right? What's the plan?"

Aubrey looks down at her notebook and then sheepishly turns it around for Dani to see. 

"It's a work in progress," Aubrey says. "Step one is probably figuring out who this guy is. Once we know that, we can decide where to go from there. I'm not entirely sure how to do that, though. I was hoping you might have some suggestions?"

The most obvious solution, of course, is to break into Barclay's room and go through his things to try and find some photos or an address book or something. They'd probably need to create a distraction--maybe do it during a lunch rush, when Barclay's busy in the kitchen and they know they won't be interrupted. Dani can play look out while Aubrey looks through his room. Maybe they can get Ned in on it; he's probably full of tips for breaking into someone's stuff. Once they have a name or a picture or something, they can use the internet to try and track the guy down. And if that doesn't work, she knows Agent Stern has an official looking laptop squirreled away in his room. If they could get their hands on it, they could probably access some big time FBI databases that might be better for this sort of research than just using Facebook.

"You said this guy was a Sylph?" Dani asks.

"That's what Barclay said. He's been on Earth for a long time." She wonders if Ned will teach her how to pick locks.

Dani hums. "Well, then we could just use the directory?"

Aubrey blinks. "What?"

"We keep a directory of all the known Sylphs on Earth on Thacker's computer," Dani says. "It's not like, fancy, but it's a spreadsheet with everyone's names and last known locations and the date they came to Earth, if we know it. There have been a lot of gateways on the planet over the years and a lot of folks just sort of wandering around. Not, you know, thousands or anything, but enough. Most of us need a connection to Sylvain to keep going outside of it, but some people try to white knuckle without it and some people have other ways of keeping that connection besides the hot springs. If he's a Sylph and Barclay knows he's here, he's probably on that list."

Okay. So. Probably no lock-picking involved, then. Just a little subterfuge and sneaking.

"And, since you guys put all your reports and stuff on Thacker's computer, that means it won't be weird if anyone sees you on it, right?"

Or no subterfuge and sneaking.

"Yeah," Aubrey says, barely holding back a sigh. "No one will ask any questions, probably." Maybe she can still get Ned to teach her some lock-picking, just because. "Still, it probably makes the most sense to do it while Barclay's making lunch tomorrow?"

"That sounds right," Dani says. Then she grins. "We have a plan."

Aubrey can't help but grin back. "I guess we do! Now on to phase one!"

* * *

Much to Aubrey's dismay, she doesn't even have to use her totally valid excuse to get at Thacker's laptop.

"Hey, where's Thacker's laptop at?" she asks, sticking her head into the kitchen while Barclay makes lunch the next day.

"Should be in the top drawer of Mama's desk. I cleaned in there on Sunday and it usually takes her a few days to move it and lose track of it," he tells her without looking up from the grill.

He doesn't ask her why she needs it. He doesn't ask her any follow-up questions, actually, and after a quiet beat, she turns to go.

"Oh, Aubrey?" he calls after her. She schools her face into cheerful innocence.

"Yeah?"

"Did you want tomatoes with your grilled cheese? I know you've told me before, but I forget."

"Ugh, no, tomatoes with grilled cheese are _gross_ unless it's soup," she replies quickly, wrinkling her nose.

"That's what I thought, but I wanted to be sure. Thanks!"

Aubrey crosses the lobby casually. Dani shoots her a thumbs up from where she's lounging on a sofa, and Aubrey sends one back before heading down the opposite hall and towards Mama's office.

The lights are off and even though Barclay tidied over the weekend, Mama's clutter is slowly taking over the flat surfaces again. There's enough space on the desk for the laptop, though, so Aubrey sits in Mama's chair and pulls it out of the top drawer, just where Barclay said it would be. She presses the button to boot it up and....

...waits. And waits.

And waits.

"Dang, this thing really is ancient," she mutters as the Apple start-up sound finally rings out. She has to wait even longer for the desktop to appear. Maybe she should have allotted more time for this task, because _yikes_. She thought her used MacBook Air was bad.

When the cursor finally stops pinwheeling, she opens the folder on the desktop labeled "Directory." There are a few Excel spreadsheets inside of it, but only one of them has been updated within the past five years, so that's where she starts.

Or where she tries to start. Once again, she's waiting impatiently for the program to boot up. Maybe she should donate her shitty MacBook to the Pine Guard and get a tablet or something. The extra expense might be worth it if it means they can work at a less glacial pace.

Aubrey thumps the side of the computer--she doesn't think it will help it go any faster, but she's seen Barclay do it a dozen times and she thinks it might make him feel better. It doesn't make her feel better. Outside, she hears the phone ring and ignores it as the spreadsheet of Sylphs on Earth finally loads. She flips the filter on the "arrival" column so the entries line up from least recent to most recent, but before the rows can rearrange themselves, Dani calls into her, "Aubrey, phone's for you!"

"Tell Duck or Ned or whoever that I'll call them back!" she shouts back.

"It's not either of them. It's--" More quietly, Dani says, "Who's calling?" and then "O...kay." Then she shouts again, "He says he'll save you a lot of trouble of going through Thacker's computer?"

Aubrey panics for a moment, then remembers that she does actually know someone who could know what she was doing before she even managed to do it. She closes Excel and then hustles back out into the lobby to take the phone from Dani.

"Hey, Indrid," she says, but Indrid is already saying, "Tell Dani to grab that tray before Barclay--"

Behind her, there's an abrupt cacophony of crashing china. Aubrey whirls in time to see Barclay gone white as a sheet, staring at her in something like shock, a platter hanging loose from his hands and two plates of grilled cheese smashed on the floor.

"Too late," Indrid says on a sigh. "Oh well, it's hardly the first time he's broken something on my account."

"What is--" Aubrey starts to ask.

"--going on?" Indrid finishes. "Well, I always take special interest in tracking _my_ possible futures, so when I saw you meddling I took notice. I'll save us both a lot of time and hurt feelings by telling you before you get too deep into snooping that I am the elusive past lover that broke Barclay's heart."

"Are you serious?" she asks, and Indrid says the words with her.

"Yes," he continues, barely taking a breath, "I am serious, and I was hoping to catch you before you alerted him to my presence, even though I had only the slimmest of chances of doing so. You snooping into his past is only going to cause hurt feelings, mostly his."

Aubrey chooses her words carefully, wary of her audience. "That's...kind of a shitty thing to say."

"It's the truth," Indrid says. "I don't mean it as a slight on him or on you--looking into the myriad futures at my fingertips, nearly all of the ones that start with you digging into his life without his knowledge end in your discovery and his hurt feelings. I'm cutting you off at the pass in the fleeting hope that you'll drop the subject entirely."

"I'm trying to help," she says. She can't help the edge in her voice. She can see, now, why Barclay might have gotten tired of this act after however many years they were together.

"I know you are." His voice, for just a moment, is kinder. "But this isn't the way to go about it. It would be best for all of us if you dropped the subject and forgot about this altogether. And I mean that truly, Aubrey--I can see things down the road that you can't even imagine. And I know Barclay intimately." There's a twinge of something soft in Indrid's voice when he says that, a fondness he can't cover up. "You should leave this alone."

"But--"

"That's all," Indrid says before she can finish her sentence, and then she's listening to the dial tone. 

She pulls the phone away from her ear and stares at it in shock.

"Rude," she says faintly, and then drops the phone back into the cradle.

When she turns around, Barclay is quickly loading the broken dishes and smushed sandwiches onto the tray.

"I'll just get these cleaned up," he says, getting to his feet with the platter before either she or Dani can kneel to help. He almost trips over his feet in his haste to get away; Aubrey is surprised he doesn't leave a Barclay-shaped cloud in his wake.

"So what was that all about?" Dani asks, voice low.

Aubrey glances around the room--the interest that was drummed up by Barclay's dropped dishes has been refocused on the various activities the people in the lodge were engaged in before he appeared. Still, she leads Dani back down the hall towards Mama's office, closing the door once they're both inside.

"That was him!" Aubrey hisses, even though the door is closed. "That was--I know who Barclay's old boyfriend is. It's Indrid!"

"I sort of put that part together," Dani says. "The part I don't know is who Indrid is and how you know him?"

"Right," Aubrey says. "Um, Indrid is...the Mothman?"

Dani is stunned for a second, but then nods to herself. "Yeah, okay, that tracks."

"We worked with him on this last abomination thing," Aubrey continues. "He's like, psychic? Or he can see the future, at least. Sort of. He can see all the possible futures. Honestly, thinking back to how Barclay described him, I should have figured this out from the beginning."

"So he could see that you were going to figure out who he was, so he called to tell you...what, to back off?" 

"Kinda," Aubrey says. 

"And are you going to?"

"Not a chance," Aubrey says.

Dani crosses her arms and plays with the end of her long, blonde braid. "I don't know, Aubrey. Barclay seemed pretty spooked."

"Yeah, that could have gone better," Aubrey concedes. "But! Barclay still loves him--he told me so. And talking to Indrid just now...he still feels something too. He has to, if he's going to all this trouble just to spare Barclay's feelings. They just need to _talk about it_. Instead of all this dancing around the subject and ignoring what they want, they need to be honest with each other."

Dani stares at Aubrey for a moment, and something in her gaze makes Aubrey's skin prickle. Not in a good way.

"Well, I guess we're already in this mess," Dani says. "It can't hurt to go a little further."

"Great!" Aubrey grins in relief. "This is gonna work out for everyone, you'll see."

"I guess I will," Dani says, so soft that Aubrey almost doesn't hear it. Something wistful in her tone squeezes at Aubrey's heart.

She ignores it. She has a mission to carry out.

* * *

Aubrey tries to approach the kitchen as casually as possible. Through the window, she can see that Barclay is just finishing up on the grill, so she goes around to meet him at the door, making sure her boots are loud enough that he won't be startled into breaking another plate and ruining another sandwich.

"Sorry about before," Barclay says when he glances up at her. He looks away quickly, handing her a plate with a fresh grilled cheese on it. "I lost my grip on the platter is all."

Aubrey lets him have the lie.

"No problem," Aubrey says. "Sorry if I caught you off guard."

"Nope!" Barclay is quick to insist. "It was all me." 

Aubrey hums and takes a bite of her sandwich. It's distractingly good. Who knew Bigfoot was such an amazing cook? Aubrey's eaten better since coming to Amnesty than she ever has before in her life.

"So," Barclay says, aiming for blasé and missing by a mile, "Was that...Indrid Cold that you were talking to?"

"Yep," Aubrey says. "I left him a message about this thing I needed to take care of for him. Which, in retrospect, duh, of course he knew that I handled it."

"Oh." He picks up a washcloth and starts wiping down the counter. "So, uh...how do you...know him?"

"We worked with him on this last caaaaase?" Aubrey pauses mid-sentence. "Mission? What do we call these things?"

"Mama always calls them 'hunts,'" Barclay says absently.

"Abomination Extermination!" Aubrey exclaims as soon as it pops into her head. "Let's go with that. Yeah!"

"I think Mama and Duck, in particular, are going to be a hard sell on that one," Barclay says.

"We'll see," Aubrey says. "I think we can make it happen." She's almost so distracted by this that she forgets entirely about the reason she came into the kitchen in the first place. "Anyway, he helped us out on this last abomination extermination. He gave us information to prevent some of the disasters the creepy tree was whipping up around town."

"Huh. I guess I've been so busy with planning the party and trying to keep Mama from murdering Duck vis-a-vis Billy that I never really talked to any of you about what went on." He's not wiping down the counter anymore, he's just squeezing the rag in his fist. "I...uh...knew him. Back in the day. I hadn't thought about him in a long time, is all. Hearing his name surprised me."

"Sorry about that," Aubrey says.

"It's fine," Barclay says. His shoulders are up around his ears; it's very obviously not fine. "Indrid does what he wants and catching people off guard is his favorite hobby."

"I really don't think he meant to startle you," Aubrey says, but how well does she really know Indrid? Maybe the whole phone call was just to fuck with Barclay.

"He doesn't _mean_ to do anything, that's half his problem," Barclay mutters. "Anyway, it's fine, it's...totally fine, like I said. He's just someone I knew a long time ago. Someone I haven't thought about in a while. It, ah...it threw me for a loop."

"I'm sorry," Aubrey says again, but she knows it's inadequate. She really didn't mean for him to find out like this.

Barclay gives her a wan smile and then turns back to wiping the counter, focusing much more closely on it than the spotless area really warrants. "So, um...you worked with him on this last attack?"

"Yeah," Aubrey says. "He was really helpful in figuring out where the tree was going to strike next. We saved a lot of people because of him."

"So he was here in Kepler? This whole week?"

"As far as I know, yeah."

Barclay hums absently in reply and continues to focus on the counter. "Did he...mention me...at all?"

For a split second, Aubrey considers lying. She weighs the pros and cons of telling Barclay that Indrid asked after him, that Indrid was sad, that Indrid mentioned a past love that lived here in town. In the end, honesty seems the way to go.

"No," she says quietly. "But! Our conversations were...pretty focused on the abominations and things!"

"Right," Barclay says. He stops wiping the counter. "Right. Of course."

"I...have his number. At the RV park? If you want to call him?"

There's a nearly indiscernible tremble in his shoulders before he drops the rag and straightens up. 

"Nope!" he says with hollow faux cheer. "Thanks, but I'm fine. I just have to...I said I would help Mama straighten up the office, I just remembered. So I should go see her. Now."

Mama has never willingly cleaned a single space in her life, as far as Aubrey can tell, but she doesn't call Barclay on the lie as he slips past her and dashes through the lobby, his long strides just a touch too fast to be casual. She watches him go through the window and meets Dani's eyes after he rushes past. This reunion is maybe going to be a little harder to orchestrate than she thought.

* * *

The problem with trying to manipulate someone with precognitive abilities is that it's really dang hard to manufacture an excuse to get them to do _anything_ that they won't immediately see straight through. 

Aubrey and Dani go through a veritable library of romance novel excuses and Hallmark movie tropes to get Indrid and Barclay in the same place at the same time. And while Barclay will be pretty easy to convince to do just about anything, _Help, my rabbit is trapped in a well and we need your help to get him out!_ won't work if the person she's saying it to can see twenty minutes into the future and tell that it's not even close to true. She and Dani spend the rest of the afternoon lounging in Dani's room and scribbling ideas down into the plan notebook, and while time relaxing with Dani is never _bad_ , she is starting to get frustrated that they haven't stumbled upon an answer yet.

"This is useless," Aubrey mutters, flopping back onto the bed. "He's gonna see through any one of these things. We can't just use some made up excuse to get him here, he'll know right away that we're lying. We need to have a legitimate reason."

"Isn't he going to see through a legitimate reason, too?" Dani asks. "Like, even if you come up with a reason we really do need him, won't he be able to tell that we only came up with it to get him to come here and see Barclay again?"

Aubrey covers her face with a pillow and groans into it. She doesn't know why she's so invested in this now, but she is. She's ride or die for Barclay and Indrid and quickly approaching the point where she might stop believing in love altogether if she can't make this work. It's nonsensical; she didn't even know they had ever been together before yesterday, and they're a disaster on paper. Barclay is one of the most fastidiously neat people she's ever met and she's pretty sure Indrid has mugs of eggnog in his RV that are older than she is. Barclay is kind and friendly, and Indrid seems to love being mysterious and sort of an asshole. Just because they were in love years ago doesn't mean they're still at all compatible, if they ever were. This whole plan is _stupid_.

Except, she saw the look in Barclay's eyes when he was talking about Indrid. And she heard the vulnerability in Indrid's voice when he told her he knew it would be best if she left it alone. They're both clearly lonely and they're still hung up on each other, even after all these years, even with all the reasons in the world to hate each other. That has to mean something.

"What if...we don't lie to him?" Dani says suddenly. 

Aubrey lifts the pillow off of her face and peers down at her.

"I just mean," Dani continues, "if he can see the future and he knows what we're trying to do, what if we're just honest with him? You know, call him up and say like, 'Hey, we want you to come here and see Barclay, but we know you'll see through any excuse we try to give you.' If he's going to make his decision based on the possibilities he sees, what do we have to lose?"

Aubrey pushes herself up and considers this. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Which, I mean, even if it's not a _great_ idea, it's still way better than all the bad ones we've been having all afternoon."

"Thanks?" Dani says, tilting her head to the side. "I mean, it makes sense--he probably already knows whether or not he's coming, and if he's decided not to come, nothing we say will convince him."

"...but if he's already decided he's coming, we don't need to waste any effort coming up with a reason," Aubrey surmises. "Yeah. Yeah, I like that! Let's call him!"

"...now?" Dani asks, blinking. Aubrey grabs her largely useless cellphone (really, the only downside to Kepler) and checks the time.

"It's only eleven!" she insists. "He'll probably still be up. And if he's not, he's a shitty psychic, right?"

Dani laughs. "Well, I guess you're not wrong."

The lobby is mostly deserted this time of night. Jake is playing on the PlayStation hooked up to the teevee with one of the Sylphs whose name Dani always forgets. Aside from that, it's quiet as Dani and Aubrey huddle around the phone and Aubrey punches in the number she's had saved in her iPhone since that day at the hospital.

Indrid picks up after two rings.

"Aubrey," he says in greeting.

"Indrid," Aubrey replies, and then jumps right into the issue at hand. "Look, we've been trying all day to come up with an excuse to get you over here that you wouldn't immediately see through, but I don't think it's possible. So, I'm just gonna say it: will you come out here and talk to Barclay? He misses you."

"He doesn't," Indrid says with a certainty that would seem smug if he didn't also sound a little sad. She tilts the phone so Dani can hear, too. They're standing very close. She tries to focus.

"He totally does!" she insists. "I know you can see the future or whatever, but can you see inside his head too?"

"I can see his future actions, and that's more than enough to spell it out for me."

"And what, you've never done something that's the total opposite of what you feel? You've never pretended before? You've never noticed other people pretending? You've never seen people who act against what they want because they're afraid?"

Beside her, Dani shifts. Indrid is silent. It's maybe the most silent he's ever been since she's known him.

"This isn't going to be the happy reunion you're envisioning," he warns her. "But...I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

"That means you're coming here, right?" Aubrey asks. "Not like, 'I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!' but we're at the coffee place waiting for our drinks and happen to bump into each other?"

"Well, yes, I mean that I'll go over to the Lodge tomorrow. I wouldn't--that would be silly, don't you think? And confusing."

"Well, Indrid, silly and confusing is kind of your brand, so...."

Dani stifles a giggle.

"I will see you at Amnesty Lodge tomorrow afternoon," Indrid says with a sigh.

There's a click and the dial tone rings through the silence of the lobby. Aubrey turns her head marginally to look at Dani, whose eyebrows are both raised. They're still standing very close.

"That worked a lot better than I thought it would," she admits. She doesn't step back.

"Yeah," Aubrey says. "Me too." She wishes she wasn't wearing these stupid sunglasses.

"You've got--" Dani reaches up to touch Aubrey's face and she immediately steps backwards, raising one hand to hold her sunglasses to her temple. Dani's not reaching for her sunglasses, though--she pulls back with an eyelash pressed between her thumb and forefinger. Aubrey's cheek heats up with the memory of her touch and she has to clear her throat. "Here."

"Make a wish," Aubrey says automatically.

"What?" Dani still hasn't stepped back.

"It's a...dumb tradition on Earth," she says. "When you find an eyelash, you make a wish and then blow it away. If you can get it off your finger with one breath, your wish will come true."

"Huh," Dani says. "Well, it's your eyelash, maybe you should make the wish."

"Finder's keepers," Aubrey says, even though she thinks Dani is right--traditionally, it has to be your own eyelash. But Aubrey's afraid that the only thing she can bring herself to wish for right now is something she knows she shouldn't have.

"Okay." Dani gently blows the eyelash away. Her breath tickles the side of Aubrey's face.

"You can't tell me what you wished for," Aubrey tells her. Her insides are twisting and it's not unpleasant. "Then it won't come true."

"Then I'll keep it to myself," Dani says. "I'd really like for it to come true."

They're still standing very close. Dani licks her lips and Aubrey dies a little and then Jake is shouting, "YES! Suck it! I win!"

Aubrey and Dani both take a step backward at the same time. Aubrey's heart is in her throat, racing so fast it's hard to swallow.

"Uh, I guess we should...come up with a plan," she mumbles. "If we've only got until tomorrow afternoon. We should get started."

"Yeah," Dani says quietly. "I guess we should."

"Maybe we should work on it on our own tonight and reconvene at breakfast?" Aubrey doesn't know that her heart can take sitting on a bed with Dani right now.

"That sounds good," Dani says. She takes another step backward, then turns and heads towards her room. When she reaches the start of the hallway, she looks back over her shoulder. "Sweet dreams, Aubrey."

"Yeah," Aubrey says faintly. "You too."

She watches Dani until she disappears behind her bedroom door and then retreats to her own room, trying to focus on Barclay and Indrid instead of the feeling of Dani's breath brushing past her cheek.

* * *

Their plan is not necessarily...good. It involves bribery and a little more cash than Aubrey really wanted to part with, but at least it's for a good cause. They need to sort of pull Jake in on it, and it's lucky that all he needs to hear is "snowboarding trip" to buy into it without too many questions. Aubrey sneaks out in Mama's truck early in the morning and manages to get a bunch of day passes for the ski lodge down the road, which she puts in an envelope along with a hastily scribbled note about complimentary passes to local businesses in order to drum up business with the funicular down. Dani, meanwhile, calls in a fake lunch reservation for Amnesty Lodge, ensuring that Barclay will stay behind.

When Mama opens the mail, Jake joins them in encouraging the other members of the lodge to head over there in the early afternoon. Mama is the biggest hold out, but through some miracle of Aubrey's acting skills and Dani's guileless face, they convince her that they can hold down the fort along with Barclay if she wants to take a few hours for herself.

"I know you've been wanting to go talk to someone about Thacker," Aubrey says, which is true. "This is probably as good a time as any."

Mama frowns, but concedes after a moment.

"You're probably right," she admits. "I can drop some of you off down the road before I head out so you don't have to hike over yourselves or squeeze into Catarina's car."

Aubrey works hard to keep her shoulders from slumping in relief. That's part one of phase two of the plan handled, then--the lodge will be all but empty when Indrid shows up.

"I still don't know how I feel about part two," Dani admits as they bus some tables for Barclay. "It just seems a little mean, locking them in the basement."

"It's not like we're locking them in the panic room or anything," Aubrey insists. "There's tons of space down there. But if we do it in the lobby or something, you know Barclay's gonna storm off or Indrid's gonna go back to his Winnebago. We need them in the same space."

"I know," Dani admits. "But it's still weird."

"We'll be right on the other side," Aubrey says. "If things get too heated or someone really wants out, we can open the door."

"If Barclay asks, I'm still blaming it on you," Dani says with a half-smile that Aubrey returns automatically. They both reach for the same plate, their hands brushing as they grab it. Aubrey steps back quickly, releasing the plate, and it clatters to the table. Dani stares at her, frowning.

"You guys okay in there?" Barclay calls from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" Aubrey says quickly. "Just cleaning up the dishes."

She grabs the plate in question and adds it to her stack, whisking them towards the kitchen before Dani can ask the question Aubrey can read on her lips.

Everyone is packed up and ready to go at eleven. At eleven thirty, Dani fakes a cancellation call for their lunchtime reservation.

"Well, that sucks," Barclay says. "I was gonna try a new soup and everything."

"They probably got some of those free tickets for around the corner or something," Aubrey says in a stroke of inspiration. "Still, it's not like we're far away. They could have skiied there and come here for lunch."

"Oh well," Barclay says. "How do you guys feel about spicy peanut soup for lunch?"

"I feel like that sounds amazing," Aubrey says, and Barclay grins and heads back to the kitchen.

Part two of phase two kicks off at a little after twelve, when Aubrey hears Indrid's Winnebago approach. She gives Dani the secret hand gesture they agreed upon, and Dani calls out, "Hey, Barclay, can you help me get some of those boxes of towels from the basement? Someone moved the ladder again."

Barclay gives an exaggerated sigh, but appears from the kitchen with a wry smile on his face a moment later.

"The perks of being the tall friend," he says, and unties his apron, dropping it on a table to follow Dani into the basement. It's timed perfectly with Indrid pulling his RV over to the side of the lodge parking lot. He exits, and Aubrey's only a little surprised to see him in a t-shirt and jeans as he crosses the parking lot, already shivering. She hustles him inside as quickly as she can.

"Why don't you have a jacket or something?" she asks him immediately.

"There's a strong possibility I won't be staying long," he replies, and for the first time, Aubrey considers that this might not go the way she wants it to."

"He's going to kick you out?" she asks softly.

"Hard to say," Indrid says. "The futures keep fluctuating. Usually by now I know for certain which way something is going to go, but there's a lot up in the air with this one."

That's...not as promising as she had hoped.

"Well, let's get started, at least," she says, and leads him across to the basement door. He's still looking a little worse for the wear after his encounter with the goatman last week. He has a black eye and there are obvious scratches and bruises on his face and arms. It's a stark reminder that it's barely been any time at all since the last attack, even though it feels like years have passed.

It's a stark reminder that this is a dangerous job and there's no guarantee that any of them will come back from the next hunt.

"So, we didn't tell him you were coming," Aubrey warns him at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, I know."

"So I'm not sure how this is gonna go."

"Poorly, I imagine," Indrid says cheerfully, and then descends the stairs. 

In the corner of the room, where they store the inn supplies, Barclay is struggling to pull down a box from the very top shelf. He finally manages to get a grip on it and inch it off the shelf, handing it over to Dani. Finished, he brushes his hands off and turns around.

And freezes when he sees Indrid standing near the base of the stairs.

Aubrey looks back and forth between the two of them. Indrid is still and expressionless. Barclay is slowly paling, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

"Hello," Indrid finally says. Barclay doesn't respond. "It's been a while."

"'It's been a while,'" Barclay says faintly. Then he giggles. "'It's been a while.' 'It's been--'" A bubble of hysterical laughter rolls out of him. His hands are shaking. "It's fucking been a while, of course. Of course that's how you--it's been almost thirty years, you asshole! It's been--" He moves his hands mutely. "What are you--how are you even--why are you--"

His eyes fall on Aubrey then. She can follow his train of thought through his expressions and sees the moment it clicks into place.

"Aubrey," he says flatly. "Is this--of course it is, of course--I didn't--"

Barclay covers his face with his hands. There's a nervous wave of nausea in Aubrey's gut as she accepts that it's entirely possible she's made a huge mistake.

"It's not her fault," Indrid says calmly.

"Yeah, but I want to yell at someone and you're a total shithead when I yell at you," Barclay snaps. Indrid winces--it's the first reaction he's had since coming down into the basement. "Why would you-- _how_ did you even--"

"It was my fault," Indrid repeats. "When I saw that she was looking, I called her."

"Of course it's your fault," Barclay says, throwing his hands up. "How could I have ever guessed it could be anyone else's? When have you ever left well enough alone?"

"This isn't all on me," Indrid says, and another one of those hysterical laughs leaves Barclay, who looks miserable.

Aubrey's stomach sinks further.

"You're going to want to get that," Indrid says to Dani, moments before they hear the muffled sound of someone yelling, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"Shit, did you lock the front door?" Dani asks, hurrying for the stairs.

"I did!" Aubrey swears. "Maybe someone came back early."

"Something like that," Indrid says, but Dani doesn't ask for more information before fleeing the basement as fast as she can. Aubrey doesn't blame her--this is a disaster. "We should keep our voices down."

"'Keep our voices--'" Barclay hisses and tugs miserably at his hair. "Dammit, Indrid, why are you _here_?"

"To see you," Indrid says, and that provokes another miserable laugh.

"Fuck you, Indrid," Barclay says. "You don't get to just--" He glances at Aubrey and then marches across the room and grabs Indrid's shoulder, shoving him away from Aubrey and towards the open panic room, where he whispers something sharp to Indrid, gesturing in Aubrey's general direction. Indrid glances at her and then back at Barclay and says something else that makes Barclay cover his face. 

Aubrey follows after them. "Guys, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Aubrey!"

Aubrey glances away from their argument and towards the stairs. Dani's tone is urgent.

"I'll be right there!" she shouts back.

"Uh, this is pretty important!" Dani calls down.

So is keeping Indrid and Barclay from having a cryptid cage fight in their basement, but she pushes herself off the wall and yells, "Coming!"

And she bumps the door with her hip. And it swings closed, with Barclay and Indrid on the other side.

"Shit!" she hisses, and immediately hovers over the control panel. On the monitor, she can see Barclay staring at the door in shock, while Indrid calmly moves to the back wall and leans back. She slams the intercom button. "That was a mistake!" she insists. "Let me just--" 

Of course, she can't remember the fucking code to unlock the door.

"Aubrey!" Dani calls again.

"One second!" she yells back, frantically scanning her memory for the six digits she needs. She punches in 332856, only for the light behind the panel to flash red.

"Aubrey!"

Shit. She hits the intercom button again. "Guys, I'm so sorry, I'll be right back, I just need to get the code."

Barclay stares, betrayed and bewildered, at the camera. Indrid hasn't moved.

"Right back! I promise!"

She races from the panic room and up the basement stairs, barrelling out into the lobby.

She almost knocks over Agent Stern and another severe looking white dude in a suit.

"Uh--hello!" she manages to say. Her voice is high and panicked. Dani doesn't look much better. "I thought you were. Um. Away for the holidays."

"I am," Agent Stern says. "I mean, I was. But Jimmy and I were driving down to DC from Columbus for a party and some meetings at the Bureau and since it was lunch time and we were in the neighborhood, I thought we'd drop in here instead of stopping at a McDonalds or something." He looks around. "Is Barclay around?"

"No!" Aubrey says too quickly. "No, um. Barclay's not here."

"Oh, that's a shame," Agent Stern says. "I've spent the whole trip telling Jimmy what a good cook he is. I have some frozen dinners in the freezer, so I suppose we'll just have those. I'll give him a quick tour and we'll be back on our way again." He glances towards the window. "Is there a new guest? I don't recognize the Winnebago out front. It's very distinctive."

Aubrey weighs her options. She can leave them alone to make their own lunch and then snoop around, hoping that they don't try anything funny, and then sneak off downstairs to unlock the panic room and beg Barclay and Indrid to stay quiet until the agents leave. She can have Dani baby-sit them to make sure they don't get into trouble. She can--

"The soup!" Dani exclaims, mostly to herself, and dashes towards the kitchen. Fuck! Barclay was making soup! They're lucky they didn't burn the whole lodge down--and wouldn't that be ironic?

"Oh, is there soup?" Agent Stern asks.

"Yeah," Aubrey says weakly. "Barclay was making it before he left."

"Well, I think we'd be fine with that, don't you, Jimmy?"

The other agent shrugs. "I don't see why not. It's a good day for it."

Dani stares at Aubrey through the window into the kitchen, eyes wide and panicked.

"I...sure," Aubrey says reluctantly. "We can get you soup." She grabs the apron Barclay left on the counter and ties it around her waist. 

With one last look at the basement door, she bustles into the kitchen. Barclay is going to _murder her_ when she lets him out.

God, she hopes these jerks eat fast.

* * *

Barclay likes to think he's a gentle person. Sure, he was a little sulky and restless when he was first banished to Earth, but even then, all he really wanted was to be left alone to brood. These days, he's happy enough living and working at Amnesty Lodge, taking care of the people around him. He can fight if he has to, but it's never his preferred method of dealing with things.

And he gets angry, sure--everyone does. But even when Ned's protege posted that stupid video on his website, Barclay managed to center himself and dial back to a few sarcastic comments, the anxiety looming worse than the anger, at the end of the day.

In this moment, though, Barclay is _angry_.

He pounds his fist against the door to the panic room and shouts, "Aubrey, this isn't fucking funny!"

"It's not her fault," Indrid says behind him. "She didn't intend for us to get stuck in here. Your FBI Agent has arrived upstairs with a friend, and both Aubrey and Dani are tied up with them. They'll return to let us out as soon as they're able to get away, but we might have to entertain ourselves for a little while until then."

Barclay's forehead tips forward and clunks against the door.

"Why?" he asks the smooth metal of the door. "Why is this happening to me? What sort of karmic retribution is this?"

He's brought this on himself and he knows it. He never should have gotten nostalgic about his time with Indrid in front of Aubrey. He should have just patted her on the shoulder or said, "I felt the same way about someone once and the feelings were returned and you should go for it" and left it at that. He let himself show a moment of weakness for a person he's been trying to get over for _literal decades_ and now he's trapped in a room with the asshole and he wants to scream.

Indrid returning to him was a fantasy. It's always been a fantasy. It's always been something to turn to in his down moments, something to console himself with after another bad date or the end of another superficial relationship. He and Indrid ended for a reason, and even though he loved Indrid with his whole heart ( _And you still do,_ a treacherous part of his mind whispers), things between them were never going to work out. Indrid was never going to open up to him, to give Barclay everything he needed.

And now they're stuck in a securely locked room together. And, fuck it all, Indrid looks older and a little more weathered, for sure, but Barclay still kind of wants to jump him.

"Fuck my life," Barclay mutters, and pushes off the door.

Indrid is leaning against the back wall of the panic room, idly taking the space in. There are all sorts of supplies stored in some locked cabinets above their heads, but fuck Barclay if he can remember the damn code for the padlocks. Even if Indrid is right--and he probably is, he always is, and Barclay _hates it_ \--and Aubrey and Dani will be letting them out shortly, it would be nice to have some folding chairs or even pillows to use until then. As it is, after a quick pace through the small space, Barclay is left sitting down on the floor, catty-corner to Indrid, the chill of the concrete already leaching through his corduroys. 

He can't quite make himself look at Indrid straight on without flushing from rage or shame or longing or whatever the hell it is that still makes his skin prickle in Indrid's presence. Through his half-glances and the corner of his eye, though, he recognizes Indrid's expression. It's the serene, condescending look he's always worn when he thinks other people are overreacting, and Barclay hated it thirty years ago, just like he hates it now.

"There's really no need for theatrics," Indrid says. "It's hardly a dangerous situation. A minor inconvenience, maybe. I assure you, we'll be fine."

Barclay counts silently to ten so he doesn't scream. His patience and restraint are admirable these days, but being so close to someone he cares for so deeply is suffocating him. He needs to do something to release this frustration and he's horrified to realize that "something" could very well be "burst into tears" if it goes on much longer.

"Can you just stop your bullshit, Indrid?" he snaps. "Just stop, for like, two minutes. Just around me. I'm not some stranger, I'm not taken in by your crap."

He covers his face with his hands and breathes deeply. He shouldn't be so upset about this. It shouldn't be a big deal. He's better than this. He's moved beyond it. He's lived for something like a hundred years, and he shouldn't still be ruffled by some shithead his heart can't quit.

There are deliberate footsteps across the concrete, the squeak of sneakers against the polished floor. When Barclay parts his fingers and looks up, Indrid is standing above him, with one hand curled around the opposite wrist. The condescending look has been replaced by a tiny frown that looks like it's uncomfortable on his face.

"...of course," Indrid says. "I apologize. I'm just so used to doing things this way, it's hard to remember that there are people who know me better than this. That you know me better than this." He leans his back against the wall and slowly slides down it until he's sitting just a few feet away from Barclay. He crosses his legs and rests his hands neatly over his feet. "I don't want to bullshit you."

"You always want to bullshit me, Indrid," Barclay says on a sigh. "That's your fucking problem."

And then, to Barclay's immense surprise, he says, "I know."

It's shocking enough that Barclay drops his hands and turns his head. Indrid is staring down at his own hands, picking at the sole of his shoe.

"It felt...easier? Maybe safer. It felt safer to cling to the future and allow it to keep distance between us. Life was more predictable that way. Being so close to you, letting you affect me the way you did, it all made it harder to pin down what was going to happen next. Every inch I gave you threw my world into a tailspin."

There's a lump forming in Barclay's throat and he has to swallow twice to push it down. This is what he wanted. It's what he thought he wanted for all those years--for Indrid to admit he was wrong, that he was sabotaging their future together. He thought he'd feel victorious when it happened, but instead, watching Indrid curl into himself, small and miserable, he's just _tired_.

He uses the opportunity to really look at Indrid for the first time in so many years. His hair's a little more silver and he looks a little more gaunt, but he's largely unchanged. He still manages to look youthful in a way that defies how ancient he really is. He still looks like a walking contradiction, young and strong, but also weathered and frail. He still purses his lips the same way when he's upset--and those last few months together, it seemed like he was always upset and Barclay was always the one causing it.

God, they were wrecks.

"Is that--do you have a black eye?" Barclay asks softly.

Indrid looks up, and when he turns to face Barclay, the bruise is obvious. It's largely covered by the round, red lense of his glasses, but bits of it are creeping outward, dark and ugly and yellowing around the edges against his warm, brown skin.

"Ah, yes. From a tussle with one of the goatmen working for the last abomination." He reaches up and touches just the edge of the bruise. "Duck entrusted one into my care and I'm afraid he got the upper hand. And then Duck punched me as well, but most of the damage was already done at that point."

" _Duck_ punched you?" Barclay can't help his incredulity. He can't imagine a man who spared a goatman who was attacking him would just...punch a co-worker.

"He was trying to remove my glasses so I could escape my bindings more easily," Indrid admits. "But there were easier ways to go about it and, as I'm sure you can attest, people do tend to find me...trying at times."

Barclay snorts. His lips curl up into a smile that he has to force away. He raises his hand towards Indrid's face and pauses, questioning, until Indrid nods his assent. Only then does he very gently push Indrid's glasses to the top of his head, careful not to pull them off entirely. Indrid blinks at him owlishly as Barclay softly brushes his thumb over the bruise. His eyes are a dark Sylvan orange. Barclay used to write bad poetry about them in his head, and while he's now self-aware enough to understand how hokey it was, he's also self-aware enough to admit that he's missed them deeply.

Indrid raises his hand to hold the arm of his glasses against his temple.

"I didn't bring my bracelet," he says. "I didn't want to be presumptuous."

Barclay can't hide his skepticism. "I didn't know it was possible for you to be anything _but_ presumptuous."

"That's fair," Indrid admits. "It felt...it feels...personal. I wasn't sure you were ready to be personal with me again. It doesn't feel right to wear it for anyone else--it's yours."

That lump is back in Barclay's throat as he pulls his hand back and cradles it against his chest, turning away from Indrid and forcing a deep breath.

"Indrid...."

"I created it at your behest. I wore it for you. No one else has ever needed me to wear it--or rather, I've never had anyone else worth wearing it for."

This is...too much. No matter what Barclay thought might happen once the door closed and he realized he was stuck with Indrid for an indeterminable amount of time, this wasn't even on the list. He couldn't have imagined Indrid apologizing, for one. He definitely wasn't ready for Indrid to confess that he still has the stupid disguise bracelet that he made so he could take his glasses off around Barclay without drawing the attention of half the state. That he hasn't worn it for anyone else. That no one ever took Barclay's place in his life.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

"Well...shit, Indrid," he says.

From his peripheral vision, he watches Indrid lean his head back against the wall and replace his glasses.

"I fucked up," Indrid says. "I was afraid, and I let that fear drive a wedge between us. I leaned on my precognition as an excuse not to give all of myself to you. I loved you, but it wasn't enough to overcome my fear. Not back then."

The last three words ring through Barclay's head. He's desperate to ask what that means, but he needs to let them settle for a moment, first.

"But," Indrid continues, "I wasn't the only one who fucked up. I used my precognitive abilities as an excuse to keep you at arm's length, but you used them too. You operated under the assumption that, since I knew how a conversation or argument would end, it wasn't worth having. You were afraid to tell me things and let me find out through my abilities instead of owning up to them. It was a two-way street, Barclay."

The denial on Barclay's lips is so automatic that it scares him. He doesn't need to think about it, has barely processed the accusation when he feels _That's bullshit_ on the tip of his tongue. It's enough to make him freeze and swallow it back and think.

Being in love was terrifying. It wasn't something that Barclay expected to happen, especially on Earth, and he had so little to call his own in his exile that the thought of giving a part of him to someone else made him recoil. He was scared of losing Indrid and equally scared of having him and what that meant. He was scared of everything, really. And Indrid spent a hell of a lot of time posturing about how he had all the answers about the future. It was deceptively easy to use that as an excuse to avoid even asking the questions.

In the end, he says, "I was scared too."

They're both quiet after that. Despite the hot shame burning in Barclay's chest, the silence isn't oppressive; he knows they're both digesting everything that's just been said.

Indrid shivers violently next to him and Barclay's halfway out of his flannel shirt before he even realizes it. He pauses for a moment once he does, but ultimately slips it off his arms, leaving him in a henley.

"You could maybe once in your life dress for the weather," he says, but more fondness creeps into his voice than he would like.

"I didn't expect to be out of the winnebago for this long," Indrid says. 

Barclay rolls his eyes and tries to force back his smile as he rolls onto his knees and inches forward until he's facing Indrid. He drapes the flannel over Indrid's shoulders. "What, the great seer couldn't predict that he'd be away from his space heaters for more than five minutes?"

Indrid slips his arms into the sleeves and Barclay should let go--he's going to let go--but instead he grasps either side of the placket of the shirt and runs his hands down them, stopping about halfway down and tugging them together. He's going to let go....now.

....now.

........................now.

He doesn't let go.

"I saw a hundred thousand ways this afternoon could have gone," Indrid says quietly, seriously. "In all but a few, you wouldn't even see me."

"Now, come on. You have to know me better than that by now."

"I do. Why do you think I came anyway?"

"Why _did_ you come?"

And there's the question Barclay's been waiting to ask all day. Because Indrid knows how this plays out, one way or another. He's seen all the variations and he made the decision to come anyway. That could mean he's looking for closure. It could also mean that he's missed Barclay as much as Barclay has missed him. It could mean that Barclay isn't the only person holding onto a desperate fantasy of reconciliation, despite all the years that have passed.

Indrid looks down at where Barclay's hands are still holding his shirt.

"I'm here because I fell in love with you fifty years ago and I was too afraid of myself to be the person you needed. But I've had a lot of time to think and a lot of time to grow and I think I can be that person now. If you'll let me."

He looks up, and Barclay wishes desperately he wasn't wearing his glasses.

"I don't think," Barclay says, averting his eyes, focused instead on rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric of his flannel shirt, "that things are going to be less scary. Or easier. Things here are getting worse. Things in Sylvain are getting worse. And there are decades' worth of baggage to unpack, still."

"I know that," Indrid says, with none of the smugness he might usually. "That's why it's important. I've wasted too much time already, and if things are going to get dark, I'd rather have you by my side."

Sometimes, way back when, Indrid would say things to Barclay that were so sweet and so perfectly what he wanted to hear that Barclay was sure he combed possible futures until he found the exact phrase that would melt Barclay's heart. It seems he hasn't lost that talent in the intervening years.

"I want that too," Barclay says. He looks up again. "I'm still scared."

"I know."

"And I think we have a lot more to talk about, still."

"I know."

"And this...this might not work."

"I know that too." 

"If you're so smart, what am I going to do next?" Barclay murmurs. He can barely hear the words over the sound of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

"You're going to give me an awful romance novel line and then kiss me." Indrid's usual confident tone is wavering under his nerves, the same way it always did when Barclay got under his skin.

"'Romance novel line'?" Barclay asks, leaning in closer.

"'If you're still cold, we could always share body heat,'" Indrid replies. His fingers skirt up Barclay's forearms.

"That's not a romance novel line, that's just science," Barclay says, and then he closes the distance between them and kisses Indrid for the first time in too, too many years.

* * *

Lunch takes fifteen _years_. Every second is excruciating and the adrenaline doesn't stop rolling through her system the entire time. She repeats the combination for the panic room--322856, which of course she remembered as soon as she stepped into the kitchen--over and over in her head so she won't forget it again. She hunts for any single opportunity to slip away and unlock the door, but their effort to get everyone out of the lodge worked too well and Aubrey doesn't trust Stern and his FBI crony alone in the lodge for a second. Not when he had so many questions about the Winnebago. Not when his friend can't stop looking around and poking at things. She's stuck up here until they leave, and once they do, Barclay is going to _actually murder her_.

When Aubrey is finally clearing their bowls and Dani is running their credit card, Stern's friend says, "Say, maybe we could stick around a little longer and take a dip in the hot springs."

Aubrey almost drops their dishes on the ground, pulls her hair out, and screams.

Stern, though, looks at his watch and frowns. "Maybe next time. You should stop in on your way back up north! But if we're going to get to DC on time, we should leave now."

"You're probably right," the other one says. "Oh well--a reason to come back, yeah?" He grins at Aubrey while he says it, like he's doing her a favor by bringing more business their way. She simpers in reply and busies herself clearing the table.

It's eons before their coats are on and another ice age passes before they're waving goodbye and returning to Stern's car. She and Dani watch, anxiously, for it to disappear into the trees, and once it's out of sight, they race down to the basement.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Aubrey repeats over and over as she skids towards the panic room. She slams into the operating panel and starts punching in the numbers, but Dani grabs her shoulder before she can put in the whole sequence.

"Aubrey! Look!"

Aubrey looks first over her shoulder at Dani, then follows the path of Dani's finger to the monitor that shows the inside of the panic room. Where Barclay and Indrid are making out.

"Oh," she says distantly. "Wow."

"I can't believe that worked," Dani murmurs, shaking her head. On the monitor, Indrid seems very determined to untuck Barclay's shirt and get it off of him, even as he's thwarted by the too long sleeves of the shirt he's wearing, which Aubrey thinks also belongs to Barclay. "It's kind of like...not quite like watching your parents kiss, but...."

"Yeah," Aubrey says. "It's...pretty weird. But I'm happy for them?"

"You should unlock the door," Dani reminds her.

Aubrey nods and tears her gaze away from the screen before things get any more heated. She finishes inputting the lock code and then quietly cracks the door open and wedges a box against it so it won't close again. After that, she and Dani retreat back up the stairs and into the lobby.

"Wow," Dani says once the door to the basement is closed (but not locked) behind them, "not that I doubted you at all, but that worked _way better_ than I expected."

"Seriously," Aubrey says. "And, hey, Barclay probably isn't going to murder me now so....that's a plus."

"Exactly!" Dani says. "Success all around!"

Aubrey thought she'd feel more triumphant in this moment. And she does feel good for helping Barclay--she's glad he's gotten his happy ending and that she played a part in it. She just thought that maybe knowing that she could help Barclay be happy would make her feel a little less empty.

She follows Dani through the halls and out back towards the hot springs. Everyone is still out, and the pools are empty. Dani doesn't go outside, though, just settles into one of the chairs looking out the windows at the springs and benches around the back. It's starting to snow again. It's real snow, tiny little flakes flurrying down. It's the perfect end to this Hallmark movie she's been trying to arrange for Barclay all week, even if he's not here to enjoy it.

She sighs and stares out the window without really seeing anything.

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

Aubrey hums noncommittally and looks over at Dani, forcing a smile.

"Because I feel like you should be celebrating a little?" Dani continues. "Or at least be happier. I mean, this is what you wanted, right? This is what you restructured your whole week around. And you did it!"

"I know," Aubrey says. "And I am happy. I hope they're really happy together. I hope Indrid does nice things for Barclay to make up for all the nice things Barclay does for everyone else."

"But...?"

"'But' nothing." Aubrey forces a smile. "I'm just happy for them."

"You don't seem like it," Dani says. She puts her hand lightly on Aubrey's wrist. "I mean, we're close now, right? You can tell me things. What you're feeling, what you're thinking, what's bothering you...I want to be here for you. I want to be whatever you need."

Dani's eyes are wide and genuine and Aubrey can read her meaning well enough. A month ago, she would have used that as an opening, would have fumblingly asked her out or suggested they go get coffee. She would have turned her hand over under Dani's and tangled their fingers together. Maybe she would have kissed her. Maybe she would have confessed that she's terrible at dating, but willing to take a chance.

It's not a month ago. The world is scarier, the future is unpredictable, and Aubrey knows that the power that she has is dangerous. She wears sunglasses all the time, now. She's not the same person she was before.

"It's really nothing," Aubrey says, pulling her hand back. "I'm fine."

She doesn't miss the flash of hurt across Dani's face.

"Okay, then," Dani says. She stands up abruptly, her chair screeching across the floor when she pushes it back. "I guess I don't know you as well I hoped I did."

Aubrey doesn't watch her go, because she doesn't trust herself not to call after her.

* * *

Aubrey is still staring out into the woods when Barclay finds her some time later. He's ruffled, his hair askew and his shirt untucked, and the flannel he was wearing this morning is still missing. There's also a serenity in his expression that she doesn't think she's ever seen before. She really is happy that things worked out for him and Indrid.

"Barclay, I'm so sorry about the panic room," she says before he can open his mouth. "We were trying to stick you guys in the basement together, but we didn't mean to lock you in the panic room and we definitely didn't mean to leave you there for so long."

"I know," Barclay says. "Indrid had it all figured out. He explained what happened--Agent Stern brought another FBI agent here? At what point do we get worried? Or, more worried, I guess. I'm...pretty fucking worried about it already." He doesn't look worried. He's still smiling.

"They were just passing through, I think," Aubrey says. "We'll see what happens, but it kind of seemed like they wanted to stop on their way to DC and happened to be close, so they pulled off here. I don't think the new guy is planning on moving in or anything."

"Good," Barclay says. He crosses over to her and sits in the chair that Dani was previously occupying. "Indrid is going through my closet layering up. I don't know if the Lodge's electrical system can support all his fucking space heaters."

Aubrey manages a chuckle. "He can borrow some of my sweaters if he wants. I'm shorter than you are, so they might fit a little better."

"I'll let him know, but I think he'll be okay in my clothes."

"You mean you like the idea of him in your clothes," Aubrey says, cracking a smile. Barclay ducks his head. He's beaming.

"Yeah, well, that too," he says.

They sit in silence for a moment, and Aubrey is relieved at how easy it is to be happy for Barclay and Indrid, even if she feels tired and empty now.

"Where's Dani?" Barclay asks. Aubrey shrugs.

"I don't know. Maybe in her room?"

"Hm."

Another moment passes and Barclay says, "Aubrey...not that I don't appreciate all this trouble, but I have to ask...why? Why did you put all this effort and energy into tracking down a guy I mentioned once in casual conversation?"

Aubrey leans her head back and it thuds as it hits the wall. "I can't just want to do something nice for someone who's been really nice to me since my life got all crazy?"

"I mean, sure," Barclay says. "And even if I was pissed, I'm also grateful for the second chance. But I know that's not it, and given the subject matter and the timing and the conversation we had at the party, I feel like this is about Dani. About you and Dani."

Aubrey closes her eyes. She concentrates on her breathing, on feeling air move through her lungs and then escape into the world around her, connecting her to the ecosystem, just like in the books Janel has her read. It doesn't calm the beating of her heart or quiet the voice inside of her that reminds her over and over again that she doesn't deserve this thing she wants and that it wouldn't work out even if she did.

"I want...someone to be happy," she says without opening her eyes. "I want someone to be able to be in love and be happy. I like Dani so much, Barclay. I don't have to hide around her and she doesn't disapprove of my job or my life, she doesn't get snotty about how I dress or how much I dote on Dr. Harris Bonkers. Even the weirdest stuff about me just makes her laugh and smile and accept it as part of me. I spent half my life thinking that queer brown girls don't get happy endings, and I had one in my sights and...I want it so bad. But I want it bad enough to know that if I want her to stay safe, I can't have it. These things are getting stronger. Things in Sylvain...they're bad. And I know I have something to do with it. I have something to do with the magic of Sylvain and why it's leaving. There's something wrong with me. I'm dangerous, and bad things happen to people around me and I just...I can't do that to Dani."

"Aubrey...." Barclay trails off and reaches out to touch her wrist, but Aubrey sits up and pulls her hand back, opening her eyes. She squeezes her fist tight, as if that might keep the magic inside of her. "You have to know that's not true. There's nothing wrong with you. Having a connection to this magic, it's not a bad thing. It's just another part of you."

"It's a part that _hurts people_ ," Aubrey insists.

"Only because you don't know enough about it," Barclay says. "You'll learn, just like we all learned to deal with who we are and what we can do."

"I'm not learning fast enough!" Aubrey snaps. "These things are so strong and if I can't get a handle on what I'm doing, not only will I not be able to protect anyone, but I could turn around and burn the whole place down around them!"

Aubrey breathes hard and struggles to keep the fire running through her on the inside. Barclay doesn't say anything, but he does study her as she takes deep breaths. When she trusts herself not to burst into flames, she loosens her fists and leans back in her chair again.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Barclay finally says. "But...we all lead dangerous lives here. You've seen it these past few months--just being at the lodge is dangerous when these things are out and about. Dani knows what she's getting into, being a part of Amnesty Lodge, and she's a lot older than she looks. She can take care of herself, I promise."

Aubrey bites her lip and looks away, rubbing her fingers absently against the shaved side of her head and fidgeting with her ear piercings.

"Not being together when you both want to be together because you want to protect her is kind of insulting, frankly," Barclay says gently. "But I think this is about more than that. And I think you know it."

Aubrey closes her eyes. "Barclay...."

"I think you need to ask yourself why you're afraid of being happy," he says, not unkindly.

She doesn't reply. Eventually, she hears him get up.

"Thanks again for getting Indrid out here," he says. "I'll see you for dinner?"

"Yeah," she manages to say.

"Good. Think about what I said, okay?"

She nods, but she doesn't open her eyes until she hears him leave.

She wishes she could leave, too. Not forever--not even for long. She wishes, not for the first time, that she had a car here, or even a bike. She wishes there was an easy way to get out of the lodge and clear her head that didn't involve trekking through the snow. With the rest of the lodge residents gone, she's low on cars to borrow, and she doesn't trust herself to drive Indrid's gross Winnebago, if he'd even let her. Her only recourse, it seems, is to call someone who doesn't live here.

Aubrey gets up from the chair, her muscles protesting after being tense and motionless for so long. The lobby is still empty, of course, and it's a little eerie walking through it alone, with the sunset casting darkening shadows on the walls. She grabs the phone and is halfway into dialing Ned's number at the Cryptonomica before she remembers what happened to the Continental and reluctantly hangs up. She hesitates only a moment before picking up the phone and dialing Duck instead.

Aubrey likes Duck and she and Duck get along, but they're not exactly buddies. They'll spend time together in group settings or grab dinner after doing some Pine Guard work from time to time, but she's never sought him out before. She's much more comfortable with Ned; some days she'll hang out at the Cryptonomica with Ned and Kirby in the afternoons, and putting together the Saturday Night Dead show was a fun throwback to her theatre kid days. They have a similar sense of humor. He's easy to talk to.

But Ned's been a little weird the past week or so and he doesn't have a car. Right now, more than someone to talk to, Aubrey needs somewhere else to be.

The timing is just about right to catch Duck at the ranger station at the tail end of his shift. She's lucky and he's the one who picks up the phone, drawling, "Monongahela National Forest Ranger Station, you've got Duck."

"Hey, Duck," she says. "By any chance, could you swing by the lodge on your way home and pick me up?"

"Sure thing," Duck says. "This, uuuhhhh. This official type...lodge...business?"

"Nope," she says. "I just need a change of scenery and Mama's out with the truck. I really need to get a car or something."

"Probably, yeah," Duck says. "I can hook you up with Danno over at the Toyota dealer a couple towns over. We went to high school together and he's a good guy, he'll give you a fair price."

"Thanks," she says. "For tonight, though...?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm off in about five, so I'll swing by in fifteen, twenty minutes or so?"

"Great. Thanks, Duck."

"Don't mention it."

She makes a stop in her room to throw her wallet and some other things into a tote bag and then dons her coat and heads to the end of the driveway to wait for Duck closer to the road. She doesn't have long to wait once she makes it down there, and manages to wave him down as he trundles over the snowy road and pulls to a stop near the turn off for Amnesty Lodge.

"Aubrey," he says, nodding in greeting as she slips into the passenger side. "Anywhere in particular you're looking to go?"

"Not really," she admits. "If you're heading home, you can just drop me at Giovanni's or something."

"I've got nowhere to be," Duck says. "My usual six o'clock appointment is cancelled for the time being...hopefully not permanently, and I never thought I'd say that, to be honest, but here we are...but it means I've got some time to kill. We can just drive, if you want."

"That would be perfect, actually," Aubrey admits.

Driving around with Duck is different than driving around with Ned. He doesn't have the radio on, whereas Ned was always blasting showtunes from his tape deck, the two of them singing along as they made their way around town. She finds she likes the silence, though. She was afraid that too much quiet would give her too much space to think, but she's discovering that it's not hard to zone out and watch the scenery go by.

"Sooooo." 

Aubrey looks over at Duck, whose eyes are on the road.

"Mmhm?"

"I imagine there's something on your mind. And if you want to keep it to yourself, that's fine, but if you're looking for a sounding board or someone to talk at, that would be fine too. Don't know how much good I'll be, but I've heard tell that talking helps."

"Thanks, Duck. That means a lot," she says, and means it.

"I know most of the folks from the lodge were up the mountain today," he says. "Honestly, I kind of thought you'd be with them."

"I sort of...orchestrated it," she says. "Me and Dani. To get everyone out for the afternoon."

"Ah," Duck says. "Yeah, I know that trick. Janie used to have taekwondo on Saturday afternoons. My parents'd go with her and I'd sneak my girlfriend over for a few hours to take advantage."

"No, no, not like that," Aubrey says quickly. Then she amends, "well, not like that for us." Fuck, where does she even start with this? "Um, so you know Indrid?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, it turns out that he and Barclay are sort of exes?"

"Barclay and Indrid...Barclay and Indrid were a thing, then?"

"Yeah."

"The Mothman and Bigfoot were boyfriends."

"Yup."

"Huh. Well, imagine that. Seems like a bit of a weird match to me, what with Barclay bein'...nice. And Indrid bein'...Indrid."

"Yeah. They say opposites attract."

"That's...well. To each his own, I guess. The, uh...the moth thing didn't really do it for me, personally, but some people are into that sort of thing."

"Barclay, in particular, yeah. And when Dani and I found out, we decided to try and get them back together? We could tell they both really missed each other, so we got Indrid to come over and they...worked out their stuff, I guess."

"Well, good for them."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm really happy for them."

Duck directs the car along the river, then loops down a side street once they get near the highway to go back towards the forest. They drive in silence for a few moments.

"You don't sound happy," Duck finally says. 

Aubrey closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the window. "I know," she admits. "And I really am--you should have seen Barclay, Duck, I've never seen him look like that before. And even Indrid seemed so much...softer when he talked about Barclay. They really missed each other."

"But."

"But...I thought I would...feel better after."

The wipers squeak against the windshield as the snow finally tapers off enough that they're unnecessary. Duck hums under his breath.

"I assume there's more to that you're gonna get to," he finally says when it's clear she's not going to add anything else. "Cause, uhhh. Cause that doesn't really make a lot of sense, otherwise. It's a...bit of a non sequitur."

"I just...I thought that if _I_ can't be with the person I want to be with, maybe making sure someone else got the chance would help. That seeing someone I care about happy and in love would be enough. And instead, even though I'm really happy for them, I'm just...lonely. And sad."

Duck nods, eyes still on the road.

"Mmhm, mmhm," he says. "And where does, ah, where does Dani fit into this?" 

"I like Dani a lot," Aubrey says softly. "And I know she likes me. But I also know that I'm not any good for her. I'm dangerous. I don't know how to control my powers. Bad things happen to people around me. And that I like her too much to do that to her."

Duck turns another corner and loops back down Main Street for the second time.

"Huh," he says.

"Yeah," she says. "So that's...pretty much where I am, right now."

"Huh," he says again. "I...well, I can't say I have a lot of advice about relationships. I haven't been in one in a while, and I'm not always so good at making them last. But I do have...I do have some experience feeling dangerous. And I have a lot of experience running away from things."

"I'm not running away," Aubrey says quickly, before Duck can continue. For the first time, he spares a glance away from the road to give her a level look. "I mean...I'm going back," she adds sheepishly. "I'm just taking a break."

"Right," Duck says. "And breaks are good, I guess. I took a...well, a twenty year break, or so. Not sure it was the right thing to do, to be honest, but I also don't know how good I'd've been at it back then, so it's probably for the best, and there's no changing the past, anyway. Point is, I get running away. I get being scared. But you can't run forever, though lord knows I tried. And with everything in our lives being what it is, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to deny yourself the things you want. It's not about deserving it or not. That bit's not your choice to make--that's on her. And if you don't want to be with her because you don't like her or you don't want a relationship or you think you're not ready, that's one thing. But if you're not going after this because you think you shouldn't be allowed to have it...well, dammit, Aubrey, the world around us is going to shit. We're fighting trees and water. Might as well make the most of it while we can."

The wipers squeak against the windshield again and the truck sloshes through a puddle of slush as it makes a turn to the tune of the indicator's clicking. Aubrey traces a flame in the fog of her window with the tip of her finger.

Is she ready for a relationship, so soon after her life turned upside down? Does she want one? She considers, for a second, if that's her motivation. Maybe she can use that as her excuse.

But no. That's all it would be--an excuse. And she's so tired of lying to herself.

"I'm scared," she says quietly. "I'm scared of hurting her. And I'm scared that she'll see that I'm...not that great."

"Well, it'll work out or it won't, that's always the wager," Duck says. "But, for what it's worth, I wouldn't say you're not great. And, if nothing else, by what you say, _Indrid_ is getting some now, and that guy lived in a dump and was kind of an asshole, so."

"You're...not wrong," Aubrey says.

"Give it a try or don't," Duck says. "But you gotta make a conscious choice to do one or the other. You can't run forever. And if you spend too much time running, by the time you do accept it, you might find you have a lot less time than you wanted."

Aubrey looks at Duck again. "That last part sounds like maybe it's more about you than me."

"Yeah, well. You're not the only one working through some stuff. I might drop by the lodge with Ned tomorrow...there's some stuff we should probably talk about."

"Okay," Aubrey says.

"Anyway. You good to go or you wanna drive around a little more?"

"I think I'd like to drive around a little more if you don't mind."

Duck shakes his head. "Don't mind at all."

Aubrey rests her head against the window again. "Thanks, Duck. For--you know, for driving and for all the rest of it."

"Anytime," Duck says, and they start another loop around the river in the quiet darkness of Duck's truck.

* * *

It's late when Duck drops Aubrey back at Amnesty Lodge. The Winnebago is still parked outside, as are a few other cars, including Mama's truck. Dinner is long over, but there are a handful of folks hanging out in the lobby. Dani is not among them. The dining area is mostly cleaned up, the chairs stacked and tables wiped, save for one table in the back where Indrid and Barclay are sitting. Indrid is wearing about fifteen too-large layers and sprawled nearly sideways in a chair, one leg draped over a chair arm. Barclay is in the next chair, with his legs stretched out to rest on an empty chair across from him. He waves Aubrey over when he sees her, so she crosses the room to stand over their table.

"You even sit like gays," she says. "What's--" Then she notices that Indrid is not wearing his glasses. "What happened! To your glasses?"

He blinks at her innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't be a dick," Barclay says, nudging him with an elbow. "I know that's hard, and all, but." To Aubrey, he adds, "He's got a bracelet on. The glasses drive me crazy if he wears them all day."

"They're very stylish," Indrid says with an affronted sniff.

"If you have an alternate disguise, why wouldn't you give them to us?" Aubrey demands.

"Because they're still _mine_ and I like them," Indrid says. "I have a persona to maintain. I gave you that broken pair, didn't I?"

Aubrey crosses her arms mulishly, but she's already distracted by something else--Indrid's eyes are the same color as her wonky eye. Just as the realization hits her, Indrid makes eye contact with her and raises an eyebrow.

"We'll talk about that later," he says. "And that's not a dismissal--we'll talk about it tomorrow afternoon, before Duck and Ned arrive to discuss some developments in Duck's life."

"Right," Aubrey says. Barclay just sighs.

"I forgot how annoying that is," he says, mostly to himself, but he's still smiling. "Anyway, I saved you some dinner, Aubrey. There's a plate with some foil over it in the fridge."

"Dani's in her room, still awake," Indrid supplies. Barclay smacks his arm.

"I told you to stop meddling!"

"First of all, it's not meddling if I already know what's going to happen and I'm just...nudging it along. Secondly, I think it's only fair that I get to meddle in her love life after she meddled in mine."

Barclay considers this for a moment and then says, "Fair." He turns to Aubrey. "Dani is in her room, she's still awake."

Aubrey glares at them. "You know, I'm starting to regret this whole thing," she says, gesturing between the two of them.

"Unfortunately, you're stuck with it for good," Indrid says.

"Is that what the future holds, then?" Aubrey asks. She can't help her small smile. Indrid glances at Barclay.

"I don't know," he says. "I'm not basing it on that--I'm trusting that it will be because I want it to be."

Barclay's whole expression melts into something warm and soft. "Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," Indrid says. Their hands find each other in the space between the chairs and tangle together. Aubrey knows where she's not needed.

"Thanks, guys," she says softly, but she doesn't think they hear her.

She leaves the dining area and crosses through the lounge, giving the game of Clue in front of the fire a wide berth. There's a light shining from under the door to Dani's room, just like Indrid and Barclay said, and she hesitates only a moment before knocking.

When Dani opens the door, she's dressed for bed in a too-big "Willow Creek, California" t-shirt that probably previously belonged to Barclay and black and gold flannel pajama pants. Her hair is down around her shoulders and she leans against the doorframe without letting Aubrey in.

"Hey, Aubrey," she says very carefully. She sounds tired.

"Hey," Aubrey says. Then, hesitantly, "Can I come in?"

Dani shrugs and backs out of the doorway. She moves to sit crosslegged on her bed, hugging a pillow against her chest. She's sitting in such a way that it's clear that Aubrey is not invited to join her, so instead she grabs the chair from Dani's desk and turns it around so they can face each other.

"So, um. I'm not sure how to start this."

Dani doesn't say anything. Aubrey nervously rubs her fingers against her scalp, leaning into the comfort in the sensation of the short hairs on that side of her head bristling against her fingertips.

"I'm sorry...about before. About a lot of things. I didn't mean to--" She stops again. Maybe she should have made a list. "Okay. Here's a list of things I'm sorry about. One--I'm sorry I've been really like, hot and cold with you. I didn't mean to lead you on or whatever. Two--I'm sorry that I keep pushing you away. Three--I'm sorry that I blew you off earlier when you were just trying to help me. Four--I'm sorry that I've spent the last few weeks trying to make a decision about what you want and need without consulting you. Five--I'm sorry it took me this long to just talk to you instead of being vague and stuff."

Dani chews on her lower lip. "Okay, that's...a pretty good start."

"Thanks." Aubrey flashes her a weak grin. "Um, so...beyond that...I guess I just want to explain that...I really, really like you. A lot." A smile slowly blooms across Dani's face. It's adorable. "And I sort of got the feeling that you liked me too--"

"I do!" Dani blurts out before Aubrey can finish, and then covers her mouth in embarrassment. It's Aubrey's turn to smile.

"I--good. Um. I'm glad." In fact, she can't stop smiling, even though the next part of what she has to say is...kind of rough. "I just...a lot of things in my life have changed recently. Obviously. And even before this, I've never been too great at being someone's girlfriend. I moved around a lot and it was hard for me to be there for people. And now I'm here for the foreseeable future, and that should be great! But here is also super dangerous. And I'm super dangerous, in particular. I'm not...great at controlling my powers yet. And they can hurt people. And the last thing I want in the world is for them to hurt you."

"Aubrey...." Dani says softly.

"No, no," Aubrey says. "I just...there's more. I'm also just...a mess. I'm always a mess and I always have been and all this magic stuff just makes everything messier. And I just...I don't want you to be disappointed. I don't want you to find out that I'm a disaster and then...not like me anymore."

"Aubrey," Dani says again, "I'm a disaster too. I'm a hippie vampire living in a ski lodge, exiled from my home planet."

"I know," Aubrey says. "But you're also...really cool. And sweet. And I--" She takes a deep breath and then takes off her sunglasses. "I'm connected, I think, to Sylvain somehow. And I'm afraid that it's not in a good way. And I don't know how that's going to affect my magic or things here or things there or...you. I'm scared." In a quiet voice, she adds, "What if it's my fault your planet is dying?"

Dani puts down her pillow and gets up off her bed, cautiously crossing the room until she's standing in front of Aubrey.

"Can I...?" she asks, raising her hands towards Aubrey's face. Aubrey nods, and Dani gently cups her cheek and peers back and forth between her regular brown eye and her orange eye. Aubrey holds her breath. "Wow."

"Yeah," Aubrey whispers. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening to me."

"I don't know either," Dani admits. She lets go of Aubrey and takes a step back. Aubrey immediately misses the warmth of her fingers. "I don't know how you're connected to any of this. Humans, people here on Earth--you shouldn't be able to do magic like this. But you can. And you do. And I don't know what it's connected to or how, but whatever it is, it's not your fault. You didn't choose this. Even if you are, somehow, the reason Sylvain is dying, it's not like you did it on purpose." She nervously twines her fingers together. "And...I'm scared too. I'm not good at relationships either, and I know living here is dangerous. There's a part of me that's afraid that you think I'm some kind of cool alien monster and you'll be disappointed when I'm just...me. There's a part of me that looks at you and your magic and your work with the Pine Guard and how enthusiastic and over the top you are and I can't imagine why you would ever like plain, boring, quiet me. So I get it. But if we let that fear rule us, than what's the point of anything? Why even get out of bed, you know?"

"That's basically what Duck said," Aubrey admits. "More or less."

Dani smiles, just a little. "Well, Duck's pretty smart."

"He is. Don't tell him I said that though."

"I won't," Dani promises. She hasn't moved back to the bed--she's still standing just inches away from Aubrey. "So, where does that leave us?"

"Well, if I followed that conversation right, I think that leaves us...trying this relationship thing out, but maybe taking it slow?"

Dani nods. "That sounds about right to me."

"And kissing? Maybe?" She shoots Dani a nervous, hopeful smile.

"Kissing sounds good," Dani says, and Aubrey has just a moment to see the brilliant grin on Dani's face before their lips meet for the first time.

And things aren't perfect. Aubrey still doesn't understand anything about her magic. Thacker, while calmer, is still in some kind of feral trance. The Abominations are still coming and the world is still scary and dangerous.

But right here? In this moment? With the warm skin of Dani's jaw and neck beneath her fingers and Dani's mouth pressed against hers? Aubrey thinks that maybe they'll be able to figure this all out after all. Maybe being scared doesn't mean giving up. Maybe that happy ending is still in her future, as long as she fights for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I well and truly thought something inside of me was broken after going so long without writing anything, so if nothing else, I'm grateful that it's not, I guess. If you read this weirdo little thing full of awkward queer girls and a super niche pairing that only one other person on AO3 has ever written.....thank you, I love you.


End file.
